


You're a survivor [but all you feel is guilt guilt guilt]

by Buttercup_ghost



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Burning, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fire, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, One Shot, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:54:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8371369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttercup_ghost/pseuds/Buttercup_ghost
Summary: You made it out, but at what cost? Broken promises lay at your feet just like rose petals.





	

_"Ib? If only two of us can get out of here, what would you do?"  
"...I'd sacrifice myself so you and Gary can live."_

_Her scream pierced the air, agony twisting into sound. She was burning, writhing in her last moments as she cried out. It was all your fault. "I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to--!"  
The only thing left of the painting known as Mary are the ashes at your feet. You could still feel her scream echoing your ears--_

You wake up screaming.

 

"Ib? I can't help but notice you seem troubled. Have you gotten enough sleep recently?" Gary frets over you, but you can't tell him how you feel. You where close to Mary, Gary wasn't. The only memories he has of her are the bad ones, but you have both good and bad ones. You saw how lonely she was, how she worried. You saw her help you, _care_ for you. Gary was nice to have, but Mary was your age, and it felt like you were a little less alone. But, all that burnt up, figertivly and litterly. You can't help but feel like you've broken a promise to a friend. In a way, maybe you have.  
You wonder if things could have been different.

 

 _Mom and dad are a painting and you just don't understand. Mom and dad are real so why are they in a painting? You don't understand understand understand--_  
_Your being cornered by statues, hands reaching out to you and you scream--_  
_You break the maiquin head and it screams, red tears flowing down their face and you feel guilt guilt guilty--_  
_You were going to die alone lost in a art gallery, desperately looking for the ones you love, but never finding them. Where is Gary where is Gary where is Gary--_  
_Your rose petals get pucked plucked plucked plucked and you can feel your very life force draining out out out out--_

You wake up screaming

 

"Ib? Darling? You don't look so good, have you been getting enough sleep? Make sure to eat your food too!" Mom tells you, but you can't help but remember how she looked so lifeless as a painting, you could see the brush strokes that made her up and the panic you felt. "I'm fine, mom." You lie, slipping on a smile as you push your food around. "Ok sweetie. Your birthday is coming up soon! You're going to be ten! Isn't that exciting?" You felt much older than that now, and you couldn't help but wish to remain a kid longer. Everyone who grows up wishes to be a kid again, so does that mean growing up is a curse? You wonder if Mary could grow as well.

You're not hungry anymore.

 

You don't sleep, you don't want to see the nightmares anymore.

 

"Happy birthday ib!" Gary smiles at you, but it fades into a frown as he takes in your appearance. You can only imagine how you look, bags painting the underside of your eyes and heaviness weighing down your lids. Your hairs probably toppled, red eyes redder than usual. "Ib? What's wrong..?" Looking into his worried face, you start to tear up. He was so worried, you knew you where drifting. "Ib?!" He picks you up and you bury your face into his jacket. Sobs wracked your small form as you sniffled, everything you've held in bursting out. Garry just holds you tight.

 

You found yourself back at the gallery, eyes going to a 'recently discovered art'. A girl with blonde hair looked up at you, crying, clearly in pain as fire danced at her feet. Her smile was pained yet reassuring, spelling out blame directed at herself. It was titled, _Mary's regret._  
You reach your hand up to your cheek, staining it with your salty tears.

 

That night you dreamt of Mary whispering forgiveness and love to you, and you weren't sure if this was worse or better than the nightmares that blamed you.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea and it just wouldn't leave me TvT   
> YouTube keeps having old horror RPGs showing up in my recommend I swear they really want to kick in my Halloween nostalgia


End file.
